


Age, Memories and Mysteries

by therune



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-07
Updated: 2012-04-07
Packaged: 2017-11-03 05:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/377592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therune/pseuds/therune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kinkmeme request: "So uh, anyway, is it jus me or does La Volpe look Younger in Brotherhood?"</p>
<p>contains La Volpe talking in third person</p>
            </blockquote>





	Age, Memories and Mysteries

Ezio walked through Roma, limbs aching, exhausted and his back hurt.  
He never imagined getting old - when he was young and his family was alive, he always lived in the moment, enjoying himself, never spending one thought on aging and the future. He vaguely assumed that he'd work with his father, get married, have kids; that sort.

And after the betrayal and the execution, he was fueled with anger, revenge and the desire to avenge his fallen father and brothers. He never actually imagined that he'd survive, he lived with the numb realization that he would probably die trying to destroy the conspiracy, and if he was lucky he'd take as many of those bastardi with him as he could.

Then, after hearing Minerva in the vault, he slowly, slowly thought about the future. He could plan. He would not only lay foundations for the future, he would actually be there to see it. He would live.

Then the attack on Monteriggio had happened. His future had gone up in flames, and he felt the familiar rage rise again, burning brightly, fueling him. He was older now, feeling the weight of those many years as an assassin, always moving, fighting, getting hurt, healing, fighting and then all over again. At one point he was bound to become slower, become weaker, become less agile. But not now. It may not be the fire of youth that drove him, but it was a powerful energy anyway.

He'd revenge Mario.  
He'd take Roma.  
He'd kill the Borgia.

He grunted in pain as he scaled a tower. His back was killing him, dio mio.

A goal in mind, knowing the order, the mercenaries and the courtesans behind him, Ezio was going to convince the thieves to join him.  
He should not have been so surprised to see a familiar face.  
La Volpe - the fox, legendary masterthief, a cunning, fast fellow and apparently head of the thieves' guild in Roma - greeted him with a sly smile. His face was hidden underneath his hood, only those strange violet eyes visible. Ezio saw with slight envy the grace and power in la Volpe's stride. That guy had to be ancient; when Ezio first met him, he had been older than his father Giovanni who had been forty. Now, twenty years later, la Volpe had to be at least sixty, but he didn't look a day older than on those afternoon in Firenze. In fact, he looked somehow younger.  
It was impossible...and very unfair, Ezio decided.  
But he had more important things to do than to sulk and think about la Volpe's age, he had a mission to fulfill. 

They met again a few days later at the Isola Tiberina, discussing further plans. Bartolomeo left, he was going to fight the French and he seemed very happy about it. Claudia had gone back to the Rosa in Fiore. Ezio disliked his little sister being there, but she did a marvelous job at managing the business, and it would be impossible to convince her to leave. He had no right to patronize her, and her stubborn streak was even worse than his, so any attempt to change her mind was futile. He vowed to visit her and their mother more often though, seeing as he hadn't exactly been a model big brother and son in the last years. That left him with la Volpe who was getting ready to leave.

"La Volpe, a word, if you please?" Ezio said.  
La Volpe smirked and remained. "Sí, assassino?"  
Ezio gestured to a table and both sat down. There was wine to which la Volpe helped himself without any offer to share.  
"I never got around to ask, but ...you did know my father?"  
La Volpe put his goblet down on the table. "Yes, la Volpe knew Giovanni. He was one of the best, and la Volpe is not saying this because you don't speak ill of the dead, or because la Volpe's memory paints the past in warmer colors. Your father was," he paused, as if to search for an appropriate word, "awe-inspiring, Ezio. He was fast, strong, he had a mean left hook, trust me, he was witty and his tongue was even sharper than his blade. He was ... a friend. Oh, he was annoying sometimes, spending more time pursuing skirts than targets - that was before he met your mother, after that he became the most loyal and devoted husband la Volpe has ever seen - always giving lip. And he was stubborn, oh, once he had his mind set on something, you could no easier change his mind than you could move a mountain. Your sister....when she scolds you and puts her hands on her hips, she looks exactly like him. And you, you have his grin. Whenever he was up to something, he'd look exactly like you."  
Ezio stared at his wine goblet, thinking of his father. He had never imagined his father in this way, bristling with youth and passion, doing all those stupid things he and Federico had done, but it wasn't so hard to imagine. His father had been quick, incredibly smart and equally smug if he wanted to be.

La Volpe patted his Ezio's shoulder. "He loved you, Ezio. He loved all of you so much, you can't imagine. La Volpe has no idea how he managed it all, being a banker and assassin, but first and foremost, he was a father. There was always so much pride and love in his eyes and words when he spoke of you. He told la Volpe all those anecdotes, little stories about you, your brothers and sister. In fact, he was positively bragging."  
Ezio smiled. It felt good to hear about his father; he wished he had known that his father had been an assassin, he would have loved to see him in action. He wondered how his father had been; had he been faster then him? Had he been stronger? Did he plan ahead or just jump into danger? Did he do this, would he have done that...  
"I am as old now as he was when he was murdered. Time has gone so fast, sometimes I struggle to remember," he admitted.  
La Volpe grinned. "You're getting old, Ezio."  
"I am not! Besides, how is it that you, who should be at least as old as my father would be right now, is as quick as ever? Have you not aged a single day, la Volpe?"  
La Volpe smirked. "La Volpe has many talents. The impossible is just everyday's work. Age presents no problem to me."  
"How is that possible?" Ezio asked.  
"Maybe it's sorcery, maybe it's a curse and maybe it's all a trick. La Volpe knows, but you will never find out."  
"Do you always talk in this cryptic fashion?"  
"Yes and no."  
"La Volpe, have pity, tell me!"  
La Volpe raised his hands to his hood, slowly, deliberately, then he sighed and pushed his hood back. That was definetely not the face of an old man. That was not even the face of a middle-aged man. He looked infuriatingly young, eyes sparkling with mischief. His face was tan and framed by a mop of grey-silvery hair. It just didn't make sense. Young face, old man's hair, his eye color - la Volpe was becoming more mysterious instead of less.  
"I don't understand," Ezio began, but before he could continue la Volpe spoke.  
"There are more mysteries on earth than there are stars in the sky. And the secret of la Volpe is one of the most interesting, tantalizing and mysterious of them all. Don't break your head trying to wrap it around this riddle; your father couldn't do it, and he was almost smart enough to match la Volpe's wits. Almost." A smile crossed his features, and now he didn´t look neither young nor old, he was something eternal, something that was forever.  
La Volpe pulled his hood back up. "You have more important things to worry about than your or la Volpe's age. We have to save Roma. We have to defeat the Borgia once and for all."  
Ezio nodded. La Volpe emptied his goblet and stood, getting ready to leave.  
He put a hand on Ezio´s shoulder and squeezed.  
"Your father would have been so proud of you, Ezio."  
It was strange to hear those words from someone who was young and old at the same time.  
It felt good nontheless.  
"Safety and peace, Ezio," la Volpe said and melted into the shadows, disappearing into the night.


End file.
